Category: Dance

BalletX @ The Joyce ~ 2024

Above: Savannah Green in Takehiro Ueyama’s HEROES; photo by Christopher Duggan for BalletX

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday September 25th, 2024 – Philadelphia’s BalletX at The Joyce tonight, offering three New York premieres: Takehiro Ueyama’s HEROES, Jodie Gates’ BEAUTIFUL ONCE, and Loughlan Prior’s MACARONI. Over the years, this Company has commissioned nearly 130 world premieres.

The three works presented tonight were well-contrasted, and I must immediately praise the Lighting Designer, Michael Korsch, whose work was nothing less than sensational; this gave a special glow to the evening. Of the beautiful and highly accomplished BalletX dancers, two were known to me: Savannah Green (who danced in the closing work) and Jerard Palazo, who danced in the ballets by Loughlan Prior and Takehiro Ueyama, and who generated considerable star-power.

Above: Minori Sakita and Ashley Simpson in Jodie Gates’s BEAUTIFUL ONCE; photo by Christopher Duggan for BalletX

The evening opened with Jodie Gates’s BEAUTIFUL ONCE, set to a score by Ryan Lott performed by Son Lux and yMusic. The slurring music of the opening moments soon transforms into rhapsodic themes as the dancers meet on the gorgeously lit stage, embracing one another with genuine affection. The choreography – danced on pointe – is full of sweeping lifts and swirling movement, all gracefully executed. A series of duets, laced with fleeting solos and passages danced as trios and quartets, keeps the eye thoroughly engaged.

The music becomes dense and passionate, and a sense of belonging pervades the stage. When the dancers are not dancing, they remain on the sidelines, as if supporting their colleagues. A lovely quintet for the women seems to offer a perfect ending to the piece, but then the men take over and the dancing flows on. As the ballet nears its end, individual couples step forward and embrace – not passionately, but tenderly.

The program note refers to BEAUTIFUL ONCE as “a response to the chaotic moments in life”, and reminds us of the blessèd assurance of friendship and community.

Above: Jonathan Montepara and company in Loughlan Prior’s MACARONI; photo by Christopher Duggan for BalletX

I hardly ever enjoy comic ballets (Jerome Robbins’ THE CONCERT being an exception) and I can’t say that I derived much pleasure from Loughlan Prior’s MACARONI, a spoof on gay manners from the powdered wig era. The music, by Claire Cowan, served the choreographer well, laced with sounds of the harpsichord to evoke the baroque.

The cast of eight included three women en travesti, dancing on pointe. Everyone danced superbly whilst showing expert comic timing and entering fully into the campy atmosphere. But as the work progressed, I felt rather sad: yes, we have made so much progress over the years…and yes, we must be able to laugh at ourselves. But there is still rampant homophobia and plenty of anti-gay/anti-trans violence in this country. Just a week ago, I heard three Spanish boys talking about me on the subway, using their favorite slur: pato. Will it never end?

Above: Francesca Forcella and Jerard Palazo infrom Take Ueyema’s HEROES; photo by Christopher Duggan for BalletX

After the interval, Takehiro Ueyama’s HEROES summoned up a world of poignant beauty and mystery – a world we can always access in our imaginations but which the choreographer here transforms into reality. In his program note, Take dedicates the ballet to citizens who played a crucial role in the recovery of Japan from the devastation of World War II.

Here, Mr. Korsch’s lighting designs (in collaboration with Christopher Ham) were extraordinarily atmospheric, and Eugenia P. Stallings’ costume designs – red garments that seemed at once ancient and ultra-contemporary – evoked the priestly rites that bind the community together.

The piece opens with a prologue: deep rumblings are heard, and the summoning sound of chimes. From the pit, Tokoshieni – composed by percussionist Kato Hideki and performed by him and violinist Ana Milosavljevic – transports us to an illusory place and time. A red-clad couple emerge from the shadows and perform a slow, stylized duet to the sound of mysterious whispers. An eerie, brooding feeling creeps in; the man performs a slow solo and and the woman responds in kind. They don red jackets and vanish into the darkness.

The music of John Adams – The Chairman Dances – rises as the full stage becomes illuminated. A diagonal of white chairs stage right becomes a walkway as the dancers enter. They move the chairs about, establishing a place for the evolving ritual. The chairs are lined across the stage and there is a wonderful seated passage of arm and hand gestures. A unison dance and individual walkabouts are highlighted by brief solos.

The music turns spacious and the dance slows, only to rebound as the dancers march about. Another unison passage leads to everyone dropping to the floor…only to rise and race about in a circle. Now the jackets come off and are collected; the dancers sit in a semi-circle, with the corpse of a woman covered with a jacket.

A new beat develops; there is an intense duet which evolves into a trio and then a wild female solo. The lighting continues to play a powerful part in the effect of the choreography. In a visual coup, there is a striking line-up across the space, and the dancers advance towards us. They then fall into single-file and proceed to cross the bridge of chairs, sure of their destiny.

More of Christopher Duggan’s images from HEROES:

Above: dancers Skyler Lubin and Mathis Joubert

Above: dancer Itzkan Barbosa

~ Oberon

September 25, 2024
Pilobolus @ The Joyce ~ Summer 2024

~ Author: Oberon

Tuesday July 23rd, 2024 – It’s been a while since I last saw Pilobolus, and it was truly revelatory reconnecting with this unique, legendary dance company tonight at The Joyce. The season celebrates re:CREATION, a brilliant collection of works – old and new – from Pilobolus’s 50-year history which were offered on two specially-devised programs.

Tonight’s program, entitled Dreams, featured five works; and while at times things seemed too same-y and certain passages went on too long, the cumulative force of the evening was incredibly powerful and meaningful on a personal level. Six dancers carried the entire evening, their awesome athleticism and boundless energy meshed with an innate sense of poetry and unstinting commitment to the work.

The program opened with Thresh|Hold, from Latinx choreographer and designer Javier De Frutos; several other names are listed in the program as collaborators. To shimmering music, the curtain rises on a closed door, which will become the epicenter of the piece. A rather haggard woman (the program tells us it’s either Marlon Feliz or Hannah Klinkman – not very helpful to someone attempting to write a review) opens the door and sits on the stoop; a male body is then thrown out onto the ground, and all hell breaks loose. The four men in the cast might be gestapo or just random trouble-makers. People chase each other about, torment the woman (or one another), whilst the door itself is the main character – spun about the stage, opened and closed at high speeds, allowing light to shine thru from varying angles. All this was handled with pinpoint timing by the dancers,

As the piece unfolds, we hear a fractured recording of the Casta Diva from Bellini’s NORMA, merged with other noises, sometimes harsh or otherworldly. After the pitch of the aria sags and becomes incoherent, the melody resumes – now voiced by the inimitable Maria Callas, whose version has been used in numerous danceworks over the years…if you’ve never heard it, here it is.

The dancework, nightmarish and somewhat incoherent, was engrossing to watch; the use of the door was truly clever and impressive. The woman (I believe it was Ms. Feliz) seems desperate to escape but is always thwarted, sometimes in mid-air. A men’s quartet near the end, with lifts, was oddly lyrical. The audience seemed captivated, and applauded heartily, but there were no bows.

The New York City premiere of the duet Bloodlines followed; an epic love duet that packs a heart-rending wallop. Choreographed by the co-directors of Pilobolus, Renée Jaworski and Matt Kent, in collaboration with Ms. Feliz and Ms. Klinkman, who danced it together. The luminous ‘music-of-the-spheres’ score is attributed to five composers: Andre Heller, Michael Gordon, Elisapie Isaac, Eva Reiter, and Meredith Monk.

Gorgeously lit by Diane Ferry Williams, Bloodlines was hypnotically danced as red rose petals fell from the sky. The two women, lovers, seem to retell the story of their love; they strike poses and move to jagged rhythms until a partnership is formed.

To the sentimental sound of an old 78 recording for violin and piano, they become increasingly intimate, one dancer cradling the other. But something is amiss; thru age or illness, one of the women expires, leaving her beloved bereft. The two dancers brought so much beauty and poetry to this duet, making the end unbearably poignant.

Still recovering from the emotional pull of Bloodlines, the deeply moving male quartet Gnomen sustained my intense involvement in what we were seeing and hearing. A tolling bell signals the opening of Gnomen, wherein we encounter a brotherhood of gnomes: ageless, deformed dwarves out of folklore who live in the earth.

The four – Connor Chaparro, Quincy Ellis, Sean Langford, and Derion Loman – wear black briefs; they move hesitantly, seemingly in pain, with their bodies disfigured. They seem to be downtrodden victims of fate. Helping one another, their entwined figures struggle to walk. They appear to pray, and now the chime sounds louder: they move spastically, like contorted acrobats.

The choreography is extremely athletic, strenuous, and demanding, and the dancers took it all in stride. Clockwork music and a dreamy harp are heard as the quartet attempt entwined tumbling. The sounds of the marimba transform to a melodious finish, with a sense of healing for the hapless creatures as the chimes sounds again. The seemingly healed gnomes kneel in prayer.

After a longish intermission, Symbiosis – choreographed by Michael Tracy in collaboration with Renée Jaworski and Otis Cook – opens with thunder and lightning. To the music – a collage of pieces by Thomas Oboe Lee, George Crumb, Arvo Pärt, and Jack Body, played by the Kronos Quartet – dancers Marlon Fritz and Quincy Ellis, nearly nude, perform a sensuous duet. The elasticity and grace of their bodies develop an intimacy underscored by Mr. Pärt’s languid, beguiling Spiegel im spiegel wherein the dancers tenderly see-saw in an embrace. The dancers’ athleticism takes on a poetic aspect as we surrender to the tender beauty of their entwined bodies.

Closing the program was Rushes, Pilobolus’s first collaboration with Israeli choreographers Inbal Pinto and Avshalom Pollak, and while it was overly-long and rather less engaging than the other works, there was an undercurrent which kept me focused.

Circus music heralds the rise of the curtain, and we find five dancers – Mlles. Feliz and Klinkman and Mssrs. Chaparro, Ellis, and Langford – seated in wooden chairs in a circle of light. They seem to be waiting for something – a flight, perhaps? To the sound of rushing water, playful renderings of “Mary had a little lamb” and “Oh, they don’t wear pants on the sunny side of France” are fleetingly heard.

Whimsical partnering, endless bouts of musical chairs, comic vignettes, and walkabouts come into play, but we don’t understand who these people are and what they are hanging about for. One character, played by Quincy Ellis, is an endearing elderly man with a suitcase full of dreams. In the end, the chairs are set in a row and the old man walks along them as the other dancers hastily move the seats so that his path remains endless. At the end. we again hear Arvo Pärt’s Spiegel im spiegel – all of it – which seemed to drag out the end of an otherwise engaging evening.

~ Oberon

July 23, 2024
Dorrance Dance @ The Joyce ~ SHIFT

Above: Michelle Dorrance

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday July 21st, 2024 matinee – Michelle Dorrance’s SHIFT was another hit in the Joyce Theater’s mostly marvelous 2023-2024 season, which is now drawing to a close. The hour-long work was ideally lit by Kathy Kaufmann, with sound design by Christopher Marc, and casual costuming organized by Amy Page. Ms. Dorrance’s choreographic designs are a collaborative venture with her dancers, extending to improv.

To say that the dancing was sensational and thoroughly captivating is an understatement; adding to the vibrancy of the show were segments when some of the dancers took up musical instruments and regaled us with their impressive playing…to say nothing of a couple top-notch vocalists.

Before the house lights went down, the dancers appeared on the bare stage and began warming up – randomly at first, but then forming a circle and delivering individual tap motifs in turn as the others kept rhythm. This drew the audience deeply into the world of tap.

Once the house lights are out, it’s a hopeless task to take notes at The Joyce. But I’ve done my best to salvage what I could from my over-written pages.

The ‘formal’ program began with the first of six sections, entitled Dedicated To You, after the Sammy Cahn song, which was performed live by Ms. Dorrance (ukelele), Claudia Rahardjanoto (bass), with vocals by Ms. Rahardjanoto and Addi Loving, and danced by the Company’s male dancers – Sterling Harris, Luke Hickey, and Leonardo Sandoval – along with Elizabeth Burke and Ash Griffith is a smooth, swaying style. One of the singers soon joined the dancers whilst the other began whistling…such a fresh feeling, meshing music and dance in an imaginative union.

There followed the little glass ii and the little glass ii remix, which sort of flowed together into one continuous number. An especially intriguing segment was a male solo in which the dancer was followed about by a wheeled spotlight; after a bit, the dancer and the light-man switched places. The music takes on a psychedelic aspect; the lighting turns blood-red. Phrases are passed about, from dancer to dancer. Michelle Dorrance has a solo, which the other dancers observed from chairs ranged around the space. Michelle resumes playing her ukelele, but the music turns into a deep rumbling.

I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire, with Ms. Dorrance singing lead to her ukelele accompaniment, backed by Ms. Loving, Asha Grffith, and Elisabeth Burke; their harmonizing was terrific. The male dancers have a trio which morphs into an octet, danced in a pool of light. Competition and camaraderie vie, to rhythmic clapping.

Elizabeth Burke seated herself at the grand piano for Moon, with Ms. Rahardjanoto on bass and Ms. Loving doubling piano/percussion. This followed by Ymir, to recorded music by Dawn of Midi. But I’d been forced to abandon note-taking in the dark, and so I just sat back and watched as the dancing continued – by turns subtle and sensational – from which I derived great pleasure. I began to feel a blessèd assurance in an uncertain world.

I’d expected a grand finale, a veritable tempest of tapping, but instead the performance ended on a purely musical note, with a song that hit me like a tsunami: That’s The Way It Is, by Alex Kramer and Joan Whitney; it just happened to perfectly reflect the emotional state I’ve been in of late. I have to include some of the lyrics here, so that I’ll always know where to find them:

“I tremble at your touch

I know I shouldn’t

But that’s the way it is

I want you oh-so much

I know I shouldn’t

But that’s the way it is

I can see so clearly

That we are worlds apart

But when you are near me

I can’t see beyond my heart

I worship at your shrine

You said I shouldn’t

But that’s the way it is

I begged you to be mine

I said I wouldn’t

But that’s the way it is

I love you forever

Though it may never be

But that’s the way it is

With a guy like me”

In the playbill, Ms. Dorrance offered the following note, in which she hit several nails on the head, reminding us of what’s at stake for our country in the weeks to come. I felt compelled to scan it and share it here:

There were no curtain calls, and as the lights came up I realized what a sense of community had enveloped us during the show. I could easily have watched it again…immediately.

~ Oberon

July 21, 2024
Extreme Taylor @ The Joyce ~ 2024

Above: Alex Clayton in Runes; photo by Steven Pisano

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday July 29th, 2024 matinee – In the days leading up to this afternoon’s Paul Taylor Dance Company performance, I was trying to recall my first-ever experience of seeing the Company live. I knew it was at Jacob’s Pillow, but was it 40 years ago…or earlier?

I went thru my archives (I save everything) and discovered that it was in the summer of 1983, though the exact date is not on the cast page. The program opened with Esplanade…is it any wonder I was hooked? In fact, my old pal Richard and I loved the Company so much (and especially David Parsons and Christopher Gillis) that we went to the box office during intermission and got tickets for the following weekend.

But…zooming back via time-warp to today’s matinee, it opened with Taylor’s Post Meridian, dating from 1965, set to a score by Evelyn Lohoefer de Boeck. This was my first encounter with this ballet, and I loved everything about it.

Above: from Post Meridian, photo by Steven Pisano

Somehow the Alex Katz costumes and Jennifer Tipton’s lighting created an impression of the dancers glowing from within. The music, described as “for magnetic tape”, is a delightful conglomeration of noises. The piece starts with thunder, or perhaps it’s the sound of a helicopter landing. Bizarre passages of spoken word, bang-on-a-can type percussive intrusions, a jazzy string bass rhythm, a trilling clarinet, music from a carnival funhouse: all this provides impetus to the dancers.

In an opening segment of walk-ons and gestural moves, we first meet Eran Bugge, Lisa Borres, and Jada Pearman. The men join – Lee Duveneck and Kenny Corrigan – along with Jessica Ferretti. Kristen Draucker has a featured solo, beautifully danced. A striking segment of two parallel pas de trois is truly original, with Mssrs. Duveneck and Corrigan handling the partnering elements with aplomb. Ms. Bugge dances a solo, and as the music turns whimsical, she spins blithely about the space. Devon Louis is fantastic in a jazz-based solo..simply superb.

Some images from Post Meridian:

Kristin Draucker, photo by Ron Thiele

Devon Louis, photo by Ron Thiele

Paul Taylor’s Brandenburgs (1988) is normally a closing piece, but this afternoon it fit neatly between the quirkiness of Post Meridian and the mythic bleakness of Runes. Brandenburgs is quintessential Taylor. It has a cast of nine, but somehow feels ‘larger’, whilst the iconic Bach score lends a sense of grandeur.

Above: Maria Ambrose and John Harnage in Brandenburgs; photo by Ron Thiele

From its opening pose of the six men and three women, Brandenburgs is a nonstop dance feast: each of the women – Maria Ambrose, Eran Bugge, and Lisa Borres – has a flirtatious segment with the five men of the ensemble: Lee Duveneck, Alex Clayton, Shawn Lesniak, Austin Kelly, and Jake Vincent. The men are given demanding Taylor moves as they come and go throughout, crossing the stage in leaping combinations.

The charismatic John Harnage (above, photo by Whitney Browne) holds the audience under a spell in the lyrical adagio, partnering Mlles. Bugge, Ambrose, and Borres in turn. In the succeeding faster movement, John admiringly observes solos by Maria, Eran, and Lisa, and then had a mesmerizing solo of his own. The animated finale brings us back to the ballet’s opening pose.

Closing the program was Runes, choreographed by Paul Taylor in 1975 to piano music by Gerald Busby. The ballet opens with a blue moon in the sky and a corpse onstage. Jennifer Tipton’s perfect lighting creates a timeless feeling as an ancient tribe gather to perform their sacred rituals. Their stylized movement has an air of Martha Graham about it.

Above: Patches of fur on the men’s costumes evoke images of the Druids…dancers Lee Duveneck and Alex Clayton; photo by Steven Pisano

Eran Bugge (above, in a Steven Pisano photo) and Lee Duveneck have an intimate duet. They are joined by the captivating Ms. Draucker – as magnetic here as in Post Meridian; she and Devon Louis engage in a duet of their own, engrossing to watch.

Christina Lynch Markham’s solo stood out as the centerpiece of the ballet; she is perhaps the high priestess of the community, dancing powerfully whilst exuding a spiritual glow. Alex Clayton’s magnetism dominated the stage in a solo danced before a semi-circle of seated women; both here and in the ensuing duet with the radiant Madelyn Ho, Mr. Clayton once again affirmed his esteemed place in the Company. Runes ends with the corpse again in its place as the mysterious rites come to a close.

Above: Lisa Borres; portrait by Bill Wadman

Throughout the afternoon, I kept my eye on Lisa Borres, a dancer I have known for some time thru her performances with Lydia Johnson Dance and Damage Dance. Lisa’s dancing and presence have always stood out, and it’s so wonderful to find her so thoroughly at home in the Taylor repertoire.

The afternoon marked the last time I will see Eran Bugge and Christina Lynch Markham dancing with the Taylor Company. Thru the years, they have each provided me with many wonderful memories, and their distinctive – and very different – personalities have always put a personal stamp on whatever role they are dancing.

Above: Eran Bugge in Runes, photo by Seven Pisano

Above: Christina Lynch Markham; portrait by Bill Wadman

~ Oberon

June 29, 2024
String Resonance @ Chamber Music Society

Above: Bella Hristova

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday April 21st, 2024 – A quintet of exceptional string players gathered this evening at Alice Tully Hall where Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center was presenting works by Beethoven, Françaix, Bridge, and Mendelssohn.

Beethoven’s Trio in E-flat major, Op 3, was superbly played by Bella Hristova (violin), Timothy Ridout (viola), and Sihao He (cello). In this early work, the composer gives us six movements instead of the usual four. Each movement seemed a bit drawn out, and – beautiful as the music is – various motifs recur until their originality wears thin.

Above: Bella Hristova, Sinhao He, and Timothy Ridout at the end of the Beethoven

The opening Allegro con brio has a witty start; along the way, pauses will charmingly crop up. The violin part is quite florid, and Ms. Hristova played it vividly, The music veers from agitated to lyrical until – In a mood swing – Mr. He’s cello suddenly digs in dramatically. The music fades, then rebounds with some lively bowing from all. After another lull, we move on to a brisk finale.

The Andante has gentle start, with violin trills set over a graceful dance rhythm. Lovely subtleties emerge from the ideal blend of the three voices, and how lovely to observe the communication between the musicians. The movement ends with a brief plucked motif.

The opening bars of the first Minuet have a hesitant quality; then a sense of irony develops. Sweet melodies entwine, laced with touches of humor. Mr. Ridout’s velvety viola opens the Adagio in a gently swaying mode. Mr. Hristova brings perfect clarity to a solo violin passage, then joins in the swaying feeling as viola and cello take up the melodic line. The roles of melodist and accompanist shift graciously. A cadenza from Ms. Hristova is heard. Violin and viola echo one another, then the viola and cello commune. Near the end, a strange droning sound emerges.

The second Minuet, marked Moderato, is light and lively at first, then the sound grow denser. A high, fanciful violin passage again shows off the Hristova magic. The Finale/Allegro begins with bright, virtuosic passages before sailing thru a variety of moods and rhythms. After some false endings, the final cadence is reached.

Above: Chad Hoopes, Sinhao He, and Matt Lipman playing the Françaix

Nothing could have provided a more vibrant contrast to the Beethoven than Jean Françaix’s Trio for violin, viola, and cello, which was composed in 1933. Chad Hoopes (violin), Matthew Lipman (viola) and Mr. He (cello) took the stage for this delightful fifteen-minute piece which is alive with contrasts and gleaming tone colours. The opening Allegretto vivo is sprightly, with a jazzy feel; the Scherzo is a fast, waltzy dance.

In the Andante, the individual timbres of the three players can be delightfully savored. Mr. Hoopes opens the movement with a sweet/sad violin theme; then Mr. He’s cello sets a slow rhythm before taking up the melody with his deep-violet sound. The theme then passes to Mr. Lipman’s distinctive viola. The zestful final Rondo is rapid and rhythmical, with the violin sailing to airy heights before the mood turns whimsical with the viola interjecting some cunning trills. Then, out of the blue, the music turns into a march. The three musicians seemed to be having so much fun with this refreshing piece.

Above: violists Timothy Ridout and Matthew Lipman after the Bridge

Following the interval, I experienced Frank Bridge’s Lament for two violas for the first time. Composed in 1912, this eight-minute work is a real treasure for folks like me who love the viola sound. The two dapper young players, Timothy Ridout and Matthew Lipman, immediately drew us into the mood of the music. Mr. Lipman starts with a sorrowful theme, richly intoned. Mr. Ridout joins, playing poignantly in a higher range. In passages of close harmony, the music gets more passionate. A dialogue emerges: Matt in a lyrical mode as Tim plucks a rhythm: then they switch roles. In a passage of double-stops, we sense the aural illusion of a quartet. They two then play in unison, and Tim then sustains a long tone over Matt’s gentle plucking beat. The final chord fades. There was a big audience reaction to this rarely-heard work, and the players were enthusiastically applauded.

At last we come to Mendelssohn (above), who composed his Quintet #2, Op. 87, in 1845. The composer’s Piano Trio #1 is the piece that turned me on to chamber music…and his MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM is the perfect ballet score.

In this evening’s Quintet performance, Mr. Hoopes was 1st violin, and Ms. Hristova 2nd, while Mr. Lipman was 1st viola and Mr. Ridout 2nd; anchoring the work with his opulent cello tones was Mr. He. The lively start of the Allegro vivace heralded a thrilling performance, the rich blend these players achieved had the effect of an orchestra playing. Tremolos spring up, adding to the vivacious atmosphere. A big theme sounds, Mr. Hoopes’ violin shines in high-lying passages…it’s all very grand. Suddenly things soften, only to surge up again to a glorious finish.

The Andante scherzando has a sly start, later developing into a courtly waltz with cello pizzicati setting the pace. Minor-key harmonies emerge, and Mr. Ridout plays descending tremolos, opening an exchange of melodies between Mr. Lipman and Mr. Hoopes. The movement flows on to a wispy conclusion.

A somber – almost tragic – atmosphere pervades the Adagio e lento, with achingly beautiful harmonies evolving over the tones of the cello rising step by step. A proud rhythm is taken up, almost like a noble Spanish dance, and the music grows more lyrical, with a reassuring violin solo. The doleful atmosphere returns, with Mr. Hoopes, and then Mr. Lipman, taking the melodic lead. Mr. Hoopes has a cadenza, and then shines in a high passage over shimmering tremolos. Passion rises to a sense of grandeur, with the violin soaring over all. The music calms to a wisftul end.

The final Allegro molto vivace is a bustling affair, with each player having a chance to shine. The violas, and then the violins, harmonize. After a lull, there is a final dash, further lifting the audience’s spirits and igniting a standing ovation wherein the players were recalled for a second bow while shouts of bravo! rang thru the hall.

(Performance photos from the Chamber Music Society’s Facebook page)

~ Oberon

April 21, 2024
Graham @ City Center 2024 ~ RITE OF SPRING

Above: Marzia Memoli and Lloyd Knight ~ THE RITE OF SPRING ~ photo by Hibbard Nash

~ Author: Oberon

Friday April 19th, 2024 – Two of Martha Graham’s masterworks book-ended a repeat of Jamar Roberts’ newest work as the Martha Graham Dance Company continued their stint at City Center.

The Aaron Copland score for APPALACHIAN SPRING was performed by the Mannes Orchestra under the baton of David Hayes. From my 5th row seat on house left, I had a great perspective of the Isamu Noguchi set, and a close-up view of the dancers’ expressive faces. The cast was perfection: the preacher’s followers were a delightful quartet of Graham girls: So Young An, Meagan King, Devin Loh, and Marzia Memoli; their worshipful interest in the pastor was charming.

Above: Leslie Andrea Williams and Alessio Crognale-Roberts as the Pioneering Woman and The Preacher; photo by Melissa Sherwood

As the object of his followers attentions, Alessio Corgnale-Roberts made a vivid impression, both in his dancing and his acting. The Preacher is framed as a good guy, but he has a dark side; in a solo danced while the young marrieds pray, Alessio showed a sinister undercurrent in the holy man’s personality. Brilliant! And Leslie Andrea Williams as the Pioneering Woman was captivating in her quiet strength, her face reflecting the character’s innate nobility. Leslie is the epitome of personal magnetism; even when she is sitting stock still while others dance, you are drawn to her.

Above: Jacob Larsen and Anne Souder in APPALACHIAN SPRING; photo by Melissa Sherwood

Over the years, I have seen many wonderful partnerships in the roles of the Husbandman and his Bride, back to those incredible Graham artists, Miki Orihara and Tadej Brdnik: my first Graham experience – many years ago – at Jacob’s Pillow. Each couple since then have seemed ideal in their own way, and this evening I felt an intrinsic perfection in Jacob Larsen and Anne Souder. Their sheer personal attractiveness would be enough to make them engrossing to watch, but they made so much of their roles, both in their dancing and their acting, that the time-honored ballet took on a new freshness.

Jacob (above, in Melissa Sherwood’s photo) brings all the facets of his character to life: the energy of a young man, but also his far-searching gaze as he looks out over the land, and the pensive qualities of a new husband who now has a bride to care for and – undoubtedly – a family to raise in his future. Jacob’s athleticism was evidenced in the jumps and barrel turns that Graham weaves into the choreography. His partnering has lyricism and grace.

Anne Souder as The Bride (above, in Melissa Sherwood’s photo) is a dancer who captures the nuance of every expression, step, and gesture; in doing so, she is never fussy or theatrical…rather, she dances from the heart. Her smile speaks of tenderness, and of hope for the future. There is a solo passage, though, when a shadow of worry passes over this young woman’s lovely face: can she do – and become – everything that is expected of her? Her husband’s embrace reassures her; the dark cloud vanishes.

Ms. Souder’s technique has a silken, seamless quality; she has the extension of a prima ballerina as well as the combination of power and poetry that is the requisite of a great Graham dancer. I expected so much from her in this role, and was thrilled by her perfection.

In the end, the newlyweds are left alone, and life begins.

(APPALACHIAN SPRING photos by Melissa Sherwood)

WE THE PEOPLE seemed even more powerful than on opening night, which is really saying something. The choreographer described the piece as “Part lament, part protest” which is manifested in the alternating passages of silent solos and vibrant, big-rhythm dance passages for the ensemble.

On opening night, I was far back from the stage and, in the prevailing darkness of the piece, I could not always tell who was dancing at any given moment. Tonight, sitting close, I could savour the individual energy and personality of each person onstage. Two of the company’s newer dancers – Devin Loh and Ane Arrieta – seemed super-charged by the music. The spotlit solos for Leslie Andrea Williams, Alessio Crognale-Roberts, and Lloyd Knight were riveting, and the duet for Meagan King and Jacob Larsen provides a contrasting touch of lightness and subtle humor. Laurel Dalley Smith, still on a RODEO high, was fantastic. There were times when it felt like someone (or maybe two) was missing, and that certain phrases had changed hands. A sextet for six women seemed like an octet on opening night, or am I hallucinating?

At any rate, WE THE PEOPLE should become a repertory staple of the Graham Company: it’s that good.

The evening closed with my favorite Graham work: RITE OF SPRING. The Mannes Orchestra were back in the pit, playing very impressively indeed under David Hayes’ vibrant command. The Stravinsky score, which – along with Nijinsky’s controversial choreography – caused a near riot at the ballet’s 1913 premiere, no longer seems radical, but instead is a powerful musical document of an unforgettable date in dance history. The wind players of the Mannes ensemble reveled in the score’s quirky demands. The setting where the ritual sacrifice takes place, conceived by the Company’s Artistic Director, Janet Eilber, is under an ominous sky; the feeling is both vast and curiously claustrophobic.

The choreography is some of the most demanding imaginable, calling for extreme athleticism, intricate steps and gestural motifs, and pinpoint timing. The full Company participates in this grand-scale work, and so we get to know the apprentices – Zachary Jeppsen, Matthew Spangler, Justin Valentine, and Jai Perez – as well as the newest dancers (already making a mark for themselves) – Ane Arrieta, Meagan King, and Antonio Leone.

Alessio Crognale-Roberts and Jacob Larsen have a prominent place in the ritual; as the Shaman’s acolytes, they have a lot of work to do, and they do it handsomely, and with stoic resolve.

It is The Shaman whose solo opens the piece with a ceremonial dance to sanctify the space for the dire ritual to come. The charismatic Lloyd Knight gave a magnificent portrayal as the man ordained by the gods to perform the sacrificial ritual; nothing will deter or distract him from his cold-hearted purpose. Lloyd’s command of the role’s uncanny partnering demands was something to behold.

In her debut performance as The Chosen One, Marzia Memoli gave a thrilling performance as she moved from being just another village girl to being the central figure in the gruesome ritual that will keep the community in the good graces of the gods for another year.

Marzia has always been a truly vivid dancer, fearless and committed, and she now has a role that suits her to perfection. It is a role in which the dancer cannot simply portray the ill-fated character, but must become her. With a font of strength and energy that belies her slender frame, Marzia, with her mane of golden hair, gave a consummate performance, wherein the cross-currents of vulnerability and resolute courage ebb and flow as the girl’s fate closes in on her.

The dancers were hit by a tidal wave of applause as they filled the stage for a bow. Lloyd Knight was hailed as the king of the Gotham dance world, and then Marzia took her solo bow to rapturous applause while Lloyd handed her a bouquet and they embraced.

I was sorry to hear that this memorable RITE had not been photographed for posterity, aside from the studio photo at the top of this article. But I have indelible images from the evening in my mind.

~ Oberon

April 19, 2024
Hubbard Street @ The Joyce

Above: Shota Myoshi of Hubbard Street Dance Chicago

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday March 20, 2024 – So great to see Hubbard Street Dance Chicago again! When I lived in Hartford, we’d go up to see them each Summer when they came to Jacob’s Pillow. Tonight at The Joyce, they offered a finely-devised program which was musically and stylistically varied, and superbly danced.

Above: dancers Jacqueline Burnett and Aaron Choate in Coltrane’s Favorite Things; photo by Michelle Reid

Lar Lubovitch’s Coltrane’s Favorite Things was created in 2010 and was taken into the Hubbard Street rep in 2023. I confess that I’ve had a lifelong allergy to jazz, and while I admire John Coltrane’s inventive take on the Rogers and Hammerstein hit from The Sound of Music, I must admit that there were times when the music seemed endless. But: no worries! Mr. Lubovitch’s flowing, fleet-footed choreography filled the stage with movement, and the dancers seemed to be having a blast dancing it.

There may have been some cast changes from the listing in the Playbill, but one distinctive dancer stood out: Shota Myoshi (photo at the top) is a petite young man who dances large. His sheer joy at executing the technical feats of the choreography seemed to set the tone for his colleagues. Everyone danced their hearts out, winning a vociferous ovation at the end of the piece.

On leaving the hall at the end of the show, I ran into the irrepressible JJ (aka Jonathan E Alsberry), an iconic Lubovitch dancer who is now Senior Rehearsal Director at Hubbard Street. And with him was the great man himself: Lar Lubovitch. So wonderful to see them again!

Hubbard Street’s giving the New York premiere performances of Rena Butler’s Aguas Que Van, Quieren Volver during this run; production photo above. It is a captivating work in every regard. And the first acclaim goes to lighting designer Julie E Ballard; her settings seemed to create a narrative of their own in the work, which details the shifting emotions of a ménage à trois. From some performance photos I found, it looks like this piece is sometimes danced (as tonight) by a man and two women, and other times by a woman and two men.

This evening, the dancers were Jacqueline Burnett, Simone Stevens, and Eliot Hammons. They were technically perfect, and emotionally powerful. Each has solos to dance – Ms. Burnett’s being particularly well-choreographed, and beautifully danced – and the partnering ranges from sexy to quirky. Ms. Stevens brought a nervous energy to her dancing, and a personal intensity, whilst the tall Mr. Hammons moved and partnered with a distinctive personal grace; he seemed to be holding the triangle together by sheer force of will and desire. The music, which often has a sexy sway, was sublime, especially the ‘title song’.

At the end, order is restored – at least for the moment: beautiful final image of the threesome standing together. The work captivated me on a personal level, as I recalled the difficulties we faced in our own ménage à trois back in the early 1990s. Jealousy undid us.

The program ended with a masterpiece: return to patience by Aszure Barton, sent to a score by Caroline Shaw that may have been inspired by Satie. To me, this seemed to be a contemporary renewal of the tradition of ‘the white ballet’: everything is purely and wondrously white as the lights slowly come up on the entire company standing in place. Balanchine’s Serenade is cunningly given a graceful nod as the dancers in unison shift their feet into first position. Thereafter, thoughts of Swans, Wilis, Shades, and Sylphs constantiy dance thru the mind. Solos (again Ms. Burnett and Mr. Hammons stood out) are woven into passages for groups and fleeting partnering motifs. Mr. Myoshi was again entrancing.

The group dances in sync, with lyrical arabesques and slow ‘leaning’ passages.The tempo speeds up, but only a bit, for another solo from Mr. Hammons, joined by a sextet. The movement becomes more animated, with a male quartet and a female solo observed by all in a semi-circle. There is a reverential bow, but that is not quite the end.

Ms. Barton’s work held the audience under a spell, and then the dance seemed to recede as if we had experienced a dream that fades away. There was a moment of silence, before the audience responded with fervent applause.

~ Oberon

March 20, 2024
Sankofa Danzafro @ The Joyce

Photo by Marcela Gómez

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday February 28th, 2024 – Still on a high from last night’s CARMINA BURANA at Carnegie Hall, I went down to The Joyce on a rainy evening to see the Colombia-based dance company Sankofa Danzafro performing Behind the South: Dances for Manuel, which took me even higher.

The work references the Colombian writer Manuel Zapata Olivella, whose “Changó, el Gran Putas” – a mythological construction of South America’s African diaspora which spans more than five hundred years of history – took the author two decades to complete.

The Company’s Artistic Director, Rafael Palacios’ work celebrates the traditional music and dances of the muntu (the African people) as a key element of the Afro-Colombian community. Sankofa means “to return to” or “to go back and fetch…”: a finding of one’s roots.

I read all the background information regarding what I was about to see and hear, but it all vanished from my head when the house lights went down: for one hour I was simply mesmerized by music and movement.

Seated in an upstage corner were the two drummers who cast a spell over the hall with their playing: Juan José Luna Coha and Gregg Anderson Hudson Mitchell. The rhythmic vitality of their drumming was a primal force – like the heartbeat of the universe – creating an irresistible and urgent need to dance.

In a brief prologue, individual dancers rush fearfully about the stage, dodging bullets and sometimes hurling stones at their oppressors. Then the first of the tales unfolds: Rebel Blood. A woman in a white gown stands trembling in a pool of light. The mood is somber, and mystical voices are heard. A red-clad quartet of dancers emerge; they dance in pairs. Now a heavily pregnant woman enters, tethered to her mate by a silken cord. The man begins to shake uncontrollably; a pale spirit appears and carries him away.

Then comes the Song of Yemayá, a nurturing sea-goddess all in white who performs a flowing solo invoking protective energy. The red quartet return, and a vocal solo is heard, which evolves into a hypnotic rhythm. A procession now arrives, to the ringing of a bell: the pregnant woman and her mate return. The scene slowly fades.

A lone female, masked and ghostly, appears. Eerie vibraphone-like music is heard as spirits gather. Dancing with small, rapid steps, they move hypnotically about the stage in evolving patterns, almost like automatons. From the assembled community, fleeting solos stand out. The endless beat accelerates and things get wild before the initial woman is left alone.

A freshly agitated rhythm leaps up, the dancing full of fast steps, and a sense of exuberance rises. There are swift comings and goings as the pace quickens, becoming a runabout, and a frantic man shakes violently. The dancing slows, and in the end the dancers strike poses in place as the light fades.

The audience had clearly been enthralled throughout the piece; they now rose as one to scream heartily for the dancers. The two drummers came forward to a torrent of cheers. The stage was cleared, but insistent applause brought everyone back for another bow. Waves of love seemed to fill the hall, flowing to – and from – the stage.

I don’t feel I’ve done justice to the evening and the emotions the piece evoked. I must say, it’s nearly impossible to take notes at The Joyce; in the darkness, you end up writing lines on top of lines, and when you get home it is all undecipherable. But what I was feeling during this hour can’t really be expressed in words…you had to be there.

~ Oberon

February 28, 2024
Saint-Saëns and Fauré @ CMS

Above: Anthony McGill, photo by Todd Rosenberg

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday February 25th, 2024 – Music by two of France’s most beloved composers – Camille Saint-Saëns and Gabriel Fauré – was on offer this evening at Alice Tully Hall. Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center once again assembled a stellar group of musicians, assuring a thoroughly enjoyable concert experience.

Gabriel Fauré’s Dolly Suite for Piano, Four-Hands, composed between 1894 and 1896, made for a charming start to the program. Pianists Anne-Maria McDermott and Gloria Chien gave a splendid performance of the work, which derives its name from an affectionate nickname for Helene Bardac, the young daughter of Fauré’s long-time mistress, Emma Bardac. Fauré composed these gem-like miniatures between 1893 and 1896, to mark Helene’s birthdays and other events in her young life.

The suite’s movements are:

Berceuse (a lullabye), honoring Helene’s first birthday (Allegretto moderato).

Mi-a-ou, which gently mocks Helene’s attempts to pronounce the name of her elder brother Raoul, who later became a pupil of Fauré’s.

Le Jardin de Dolly (Andantino); this was composed as a present for New Year’s Day, 1895. It contains a quotation from Fauré’s first violin sonata, composed 20 years earlier.

Kitty-valse: this is not about a cat, but rather about the Bardacs’ pet dog, named Ketty.

Tendresse, an andante, was written in 1896 and presages the composer’s beloved Nocturnes.

Le pas espagnol (Allegro) denotes a lively Spanish dance tune which brings the suite to its close.

Tonight, Ms. Chien was in charge of the lower octaves, and Ms. McDermott of the upper. They seemed to be truly enjoying playing this music, which veers from rambunctious to elegant. At the end, they embraced, and then basked in the audience’s warm applause.

It’s always a delight to hear Anthony McGill, Principal Clarinet of The New York Philharmonic, and this evening he regaled us with his sumptuous playing of Camille Saint-Saëns’ Sonata in E-flat major, Op. 167, dating from 1921…one of the composer’s last works. With Ms. Chien at the Steinway, the music simply glowed, from first note to last.

The opening Allegretto has a subdued start, but passion lurks beneath the surface. Mr. McGill was soon astounding us with his mastery of dynamics and his fluent coloratura. His pianissimi must be experienced to be believed: such control! Infinite beauty of tone is a McGill trademark, reaching our souls like a blessing from above. The movement has a poetic finish.

From a sprightly start, the Allegro animato finds the two players in perfect simpatico mode. Enchanting subtleties from both musicans continually cast a spell over the Hall. Ms. Chien opened the Lento with a deep, somber melody. She then commences a soft heartbeat motif, with Mr. McGill’s clarinet singing a forlorn melody. A wistful ‘ending’ is reached, but there’s a lovely piano postlude to follow.

Rapid keyboard figurations open the concluding Molto allegro, wherein the virtuosity of both players delights us: rapid scales and sparkling cascades of notes are crystal clear. Then M. Saint-Saëns makes a surprising mood-swing: there is a gorgeous fade-away, from which a lovely melody arises. Mr. McGill’s final pianissimo note, sustained to spine-tinlging effect, was simply uncanny.

I cannot recall ever having heard Fauré’s La Bonne Chanson performed live before. When this concert was first announced, Sasha Cooke was listed as the soloist; but in the event, it was the radiant young Chinese soprano Meigui Zhang (photo above) who sang the Fauré for us…exquisitely.

It’s been nearly a year since I first heard Ms. Zhang: in John Luther Adams’ Vespers of the Blessed Earth, on a memorable evening at Carnegie Hall, which you can read about here. For the Fauré songs tonight, she joined an ensemble of outstanding musicians: violinists Arnaud Sussmann and Paul Huang, violist Matthew Lipman, the NY Phil’s primo basso Timothy Cobb, and Ms. Chien at the piano.

The nine songs are settings of nine poems by Paul Verlaine, which the poet wrote as a wedding gift to his wife. (Ironically, Verlaine had also had an affair with Emma Bardac, mistress of Fauré.)

The songs explore many moods, by turns restless, idyllic, passionate, and pensive. The pretty, lyrical quality of Ms. Zhang’s voice is ideally suited to these songs. Particularly impressive were “J’allais par les chemins perfides” where the singer’s silken tone sounded especially lovely among the rich string mix; the urgent ecstasy of “Avant que tu ne t’en ailles“; the meltingly soft allure of her tone in “Donc, ce sera par un clair j:our d’été” with its beautifully sustained final note; and the sweet rapture of her “L’hiver a cessé“. Surely Ms. Zhang gained many new admirers this evening.

In these songs, the piano and strings provide a sonic tapestry into which the voice is woven to magical effect. Ms. Chien’s playing was a constant source of pleasure, and Arnaud Sussmann’s tone shimmered on high, seconded by Paul Huang. The deeper voices gave plushness to the ensemble: Matthew Lipman (viola) and David Requiro (cello) have much to do – they were particularly fine in “N’est-ce pas?” The composer might have given more to the bass, but Mr. Cobb made the most of each opportunity.

Following the interval, a glorious rendering of Camille Saint-Saëns’ 1875 Quartet in B-flat major brought together Ms. McDermott, and Mssrs. Huang, Lipman, and Requiro. Ms. McDermott commences the opening Allegretto, with the trio of strings joining in a unison passage. The blending of the four voices is most cordial, with the pianist’s seamless phrasing and the intriguing timbres of the three string players. I hadn’t heard Paul Huang for a while, and it was simply great to hear his distinctive sound again, as he sailed thru an ascending/decending solo motif. The Allegretto has a terrific ending.

Ms. McDermott emphatically attacks the opening bars of the Andante maestoso; the strings again join in unison, and the music has a vaguely Russian feel. There’s a slow piano theme, with the strings etching in comments along the way. Things then turn fast and furious, Ms. McDermott commanding the keyboard and the strings slashing away. Turbulence!

Mr. Lipman and Ms. McDemott launch the delightful Poco allegro, which charmed my companion and me with its Mendelssohnian flavor. There are major/minor shifts which lead to a Paul Huang cadenza, passionately played and with a ravishing trill. The music races lightly forward to a deliciously subtle finish.

The concluding Allegro starts briskly, the piano leading the way. The strings play in unison or pass phrases to one another. There’s an underlying restlessness that calms to a series of soft pizzicati. A slow build-up of tension gives way to a luxuriant sense of peace before a rising passage brings this splendid piece to its end. The musicians enjoyed a standing ovation; with our spirits lifted, we headed out into the freezing winter night.

~ Oberon

February 25, 2024
Joffrey Concert Group @ Ailey Citigroup

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday February 17th, 2024 matinee – The Joffrey Concert Group offering a program of four works by three choreographers at the Ailey Citigroup Theater. The dancers were all technically adept and physically attractive, and the performance was enhanced by excellent lighting. While each ballet was enjoyable to watch individually (and to listen to, at least until someone pumped up the volume), being performed one after the other made for an afternoon lacking in contrasts.

Chicago-born Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater principal dancer Vernard J Gilmore has created “Dawn Of Love”, which opened the show. The work’s six movements do offer some variety of pacing and atmosphere, all basically coloured by the power and intensity of the music by Prince, distinctively played by the Vitamin String Quartet and mixed by long-time collaborator, DJ April Reign.

“Dawn Of Love” gets off to a big-beat start with “Not Afraid” in which four couples wend thru various ballet partnering motifs. “Neverending” begins with the women, soon joined by the men – the music has a hoedown feeling. A steady beat pulses thru “Specks of Hope“, danced by a trio of women, and then there is an ethereal solo, “I Will, I Am” danced poetically by Mari Murata, with her lovely pointe work. (I should note that, throughout the evening, some of the women were on pointe and others in soft slippers). A pointy duet for Annika Davis and Sydney Williams opens “Diamonds and Pearls“, danced to an insistent beat. The other women join, and finally the men. The ballet concludes with a duet for Breeanna Palmer and Faahkir Bestman entitled “Nothing…”; the stage is bathed in a red glow, and the music has an oddly Appalachian feel. Although this duet went on a bit too long, it was very finely danced. An extra bravo to lighting designer Michael Faba.

There were no bows after the opening work, and after a brief pause Bradley Shelver’s “Random People With Beautiful Parts” commenced. The music draws on the Hilliard Ensemble’s recordings of J S Bach; the piece is in three sections, beginning with a solemn air of ritual. Traditional ballet combinations weave into the music, and a sense of light vs darkness develops. An interesting motif of skidding on pointe is introduced, reminding me of Mauro Bigonzetti’s gorgeous “Luce Nascosta” for NYC Ballet (2010). There’s a lot happening in this opening section; the eye is constantly drawn from dancer to dancer.

Mr. Bestman joined Yumeno Takechi for the ballet’s central pas de deux, set to a pulsing beat. Then trilling percussion opens the dramatic finale, in which several individual dancers had a chance to shine, notably Charles Klepner. The dancing is showy and gets somewhat competitive as the music accelerates.

“The Relentless Nature of Dreaming” by choreographer Eryn Renee Young, is set to music by J.S. Bach and an original score by emerging composer Heather Cook. It’s been quite a long time since I last saw Ms. Young’s work: 2014, in fact, when I saw her excellent Bartok piece “Symphonie Miroir “. From the title of Ms. Young’s ballet on offer this evening, “The Relentless Nature of Dreaming“, I was envisioning an atmosphere of Shades or Wilis; but it’s actually the word “restless” in the title that most aptly applies.

The large cast (seemingly everyone in the Company) were clad in red (the men) and hot pink (the women), making quite a breath-taking sight as the lights came up. The women are divided into two groups: some in soft slippers and other on pointe. Neat patterns and myriad steps are skillfully choreographed. An exceptional solo, danced by one of the soft-slipper girls, was a highlight of the opening movement, but I can’t tell you her name.

The second section of Ms. Young’s ballet is danced to “Be My Water Tonight” by Heather Cook. For some reason, this was played at a very high volume; the dancing – at times quite animated – could have been really engaging, but the music was simply earsplitting. The song eventually turns watery, as if submerged (thus the word ‘water’ in the song’s title); there is so much going on for the dancers but it all gets lost in the musical overkill. The ballet ends with an elaborate final pose.

Closing the program is “OOF”, choreographed by Mr. Shelver. Set to music by Machito, Sunny and the Sunliners, and Balkan Beat Box, it sustained the high-energy, rather relentless feeling of the program. There were passing moments when it seemed a mood-swing might happen – one such was a male solo which commenced in a pool of light – but the idea was not developed: it simply melded into an ensemble.

The choreography is athletic and at times quirky, with something of a gypsy tinge to it. The final duet, set to “I Only Have Eyes For You“, was danced by Joliana Canaan and Faakhir Bestman, and was beautfully done.

What was lacking in the evening was a feeling of emotional connections between the dancers; seldom was any tenderness expressed, though in fact the extroverted nature of the ballets rarely called for it.

As to the music, there seems to be a tradition in this performing venue that music will be played in the theatre for a half-hour before curtain time, and during the interval. This means that the scores the choreographers have chosen to set become part of a larger sound scheme, diminishing their effect.

~ Oberon

February 17, 2024